


Decadence

by Sylvians



Category: Duran Duran
Genre: M/M, a mess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-05
Updated: 2017-02-05
Packaged: 2018-09-22 01:40:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9576209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sylvians/pseuds/Sylvians
Summary: The boys begin a new tradition of renting a few hotel rooms and devoting a week to absolutely wrecking John Taylor.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Each day is a new chapter! Will be updating fairly regularly~

“Hey, you ready? I’m coming in.”

 

Roger rapped his knuckles against the cheap particle wood of the hotel door, waiting a moment before pushing it open with his hip. Stretched out across the bed in center of the room was John, whose previously nervous expression brightened the moment their eyes met. He pulled his robe around him and sat upright.

 

A warm glow from the lamp beside him washed over him as he watched Roger kick off his shoes by the doorframe.

 

“You’re a little late,” John said with a slight smile, the robe slipping back down his arm again as he spoke.

 

“Am I? Do I get points deducted for tardiness?”

 

Roger chuckled and sat down on the foot of the bed. There was a comforting air of familiarity between them, which both were quite thankful for. John crawled over to sit beside him and rested his chin on his shoulder.

 

“I didn’t know we were keeping score now,” John went on, ducking his head playfully as Roger reached up to ruffle his dark hair. “Anything else new this time around that I should know about?”

 

“Nah. Well, actually- you look awfully cute like this, though.”

 

John scoffed and rolled his eyes- though his bangs obscured most of his brow so it nearly went unnoticed.

 

“Come off it. I don’t look any different than I always do.”

 

“Exactly.”

 

“You’re terrible.”

 

With a grin, John looped his arms around Roger’s waist and pulled him close against his chest. “Well, let’s get this over with.”

 

Though he tried to sound as uninterested as he possibly could, the big grin across his face betrayed him.

 

Roger wriggled out of John’s grip and pushed him over, crouching above him on his knees. He placed his hands firmly on the mattress by either side of John’s face and leaned in a bit.

 

“’Get this over with’?” he repeated, raising an eyebrow. He tried to keep a straight face as well, but it worked just as much. A laugh slipped past his lips as he bit back another. “You’re calling the shots now, too?”

 

“A little.”

Roger bumped their noses together and closed the gap between them with a kiss.

  
  
Inhaling the scent of his sweat and shampoo, John felt a sudden pang of nostalgia deep in his chest. His arms draped around his neck and gently pulled him down.

 

Muscle memory quickly came into play as their hands began to wander, replaying the movements of too many previous encounters. Roger tugged John’s bottom lip down with his thumb and slipped his tongue into his slightly opened mouth. Little, quiet noises of approval urged him on.

 

Blunt nails scraped against the sensitive skin of John’s belly as the loose belt around his waist was pulled undone, causing his robe to slide off and expose his chest. As it rose and fell in the dim light of the lamp with each breath, he glanced up at Roger from underneath dark lashes and messy hair, his lips parted and swollen.

 

“You really do look cute, John,” Roger whispered, leaning close to his ear. He took the soft flesh between his teeth and let it go to trail wet kisses down the side of his neck.

 

“S-stop it.”

 

“Stop what?”

 

John turned his face away and cupped a hand over his eyes bashfully.

 

“Saying that stuff. You’re embarrassing me.”

 

“Stop saying you’re cute?”

 

Roger sat upright and lifted his own shirt off over his head. “When you’re all laid out for me like this?”

 

“Well-“

 

“Not likely.”

 

As embarrassing as he was, Roger made for a perfect first day. Things were easy and quiet- peaceful, even. Roger never really pulled anything new. He liked things to be almost puritanical compared to the others.

 

Ignoring John’s sigh, Roger slid his hand down the front of his waist. His fingers brushed against the soft skin of his stomach and paused before nudging his legs apart.

 

“You’ve been looking forward to this too, haven’t you?”

 

Roger raised an eyebrow at him and gestured towards John’s half-hard cock resting against his inner thigh. “Look at you.”

 

“Kind of.”

 

“Same here, actually.”

 

His full lips drew up into a smile as he planted a few more kisses on the underside of John’s jaw. As one hand went to work on the button of his own pants, the other wrapped slightly calloused fingers around John’s shaft. He pressed his thumb against the slit and smeared a bead of precum around the head. John’s breath hitched as he watched Roger intently.

 

“They send you in here first to soften me up, huh?” he asked, running his tongue along his bottom lip. His head tilted back into the pillows beneath him and made a soft whine. “Not that I’m complaining.”

 

“Would you rather be handed over to Nick?” Roger purred. He finished stripping himself down and leaned back over him, his hand still between their bodies. “We could always switch days if you wanted.”

 

“N-no, that’s okay.”

 

John flashed him a toothy smile that quickly melted into another moan as Roger suddenly pushed their hips together. Roger’s cock strained hard against his own, slipping a little as they shifted and prodding at his lower stomach.

 

“Going to let me ‘soften you up’, then?”

 

“Rog!”

 

Roger pulled away again and leaned over the side of the bed to the end table, reaching over to clumsily grab a small bottle sitting next to a telephone. He pulled open the cap with his teeth and squeezed a bit of the contents into the palm of his hand. John braced himself for the shock of cold as he felt a slick finger rub a little circle around his hole.

 

“Shit,” he gasped, spreading his legs and arching his back. His widened, dark eyes followed Roger’s movements expectantly. “Did you just pull that out of the fridge?”

 

Roger didn’t answer him.

 

His finger pressed into John as he began to stroke him with his free hand, which elicited another soft moan from the man underneath him. Another finger slipped inside and John gripped the bedsheets beside him.

 

He began to whine rhythmically as Roger started to thrust them in and out, hooking them upwards.

 

“M-more,” John gasped, repositioning himself to sit a little more upright. The back of his head bumped against the headboard as he scrambled to find something to steady himself.

 

“More what?”

 

“More of you.”

 

Roger nodded and took his hand away from John and grabbed the bottle again, squeezing more out and slicking himself up in the process. His own cock certainly wasn’t anything to write home about, but he still found it necessary to be gentle.

 

He pushed John’s legs up to his chest and aligned himself against his ass.

 

“You ready, then?”

 

John nodded and bit down on his bottom lip, sucking it between his teeth for a second before speaking.

 

“Yeah.”

 

With his approval, Roger slowly pushed himself into him, pausing every so often to let him adjust. John hissed through his teeth from the discomfort of being stretched open to accommodate something much larger than just two fingers.

 

“Still doing okay?” Roger asked, squeezing his thigh in an attempt to reassure him. John said nothing but nodded sharply. He didn’t look comfortable all folded up like that, but Roger took his word for it.

 

After a moment of shallow thrusts, he leaned back a bit and lifted John’s legs over his shoulders- which, in turn, contorted him a bit more but took the pressure of his knees off his sweaty chest. Roger’s fingers wrapped around his hips, finding some difficulty with the slipperiness of John’s skin. It almost burned to the touch.

 

Roger sped up his pace, suddenly eliciting more loud, delicious noises from John. He bounced lightly with every thrust and grabbed fistfuls of the blankets beneath him.

 

“S-shit, shit,” John spat out, wrenching his eyes shut and gritting his teeth. His eyebrows furrowed together in a balance of pleasure and concentration. Even through his daze, Roger could see a bead of sweat roll down the side of his neck, landing in the shallows of his collarbone.

 

“Is it- is it good?”

 

Roger tightened his grip on John’s hips and yanked his body closer as he pounded into him. There wasn’t much of an answer from John, just a series of whines. His head leaned back against the bed and his mouth fell open slightly. Such a debauched look spread across his face, one generally reserved for losing himself onstage in front of thousands.

 

As Roger felt himself inch closer to his release he grew more reckless, thrusting hard enough into John to make his whole body move along with him each time. Drool oozed down his chin and his eyelids drooped half-closed, unfocused and glazed over.

 

Desperate, incomprehensible words poured out from between his lips as Roger panted above him, punctuating each movement with a sharp cry. Roger’s hand let go of John’s hip and slipped in between them instead, once again wrapping around his cock and roughly stroking him.

 

“F-fuck, Rog, I-” John slurred. “Gonna, I’m gonna-“

 

Arching his spine as his eyes crossed and rolled back into his head, he came with a deep, hoarse moan. Cum splattered across his stomach and seared against his clammy, sweaty skin and he waited in a patient daze for Roger to finish, too.

 

He watched him move with bleary eyes, his hair plastered against his damp forehead and nearly obscuring what little vision he could muster up the energy for.

 

Gasping, Roger came with a stutter of his hips, ducking his head down to frantically kiss John as he filled him. John’s grip on the bedsheets loosened as he went limp. He felt a sudden bite of cold air once Roger rolled off of him, no longer blanketed by his body heat.

 

A few moments went by with no words spoken between them, only heavy breathing and the rustling of sheets as John struggled to stay upright and awake. Roger stretched out beside him and yawned, resting his head against his shoulder.

 

“It’s getting late,” he began, tilting his face upwards to look at John. “I should get back to my room soon. You’re going to need a good night’s sleep if you’ve got Nick first thing in the morning, right?”

 

John silently nodded his head, his eyes drifting over to the door. He made a quiet little grunt as Roger kissed his cheek and slid out of bed.

 

“I’ll see you again on Friday,” he went on, pulling his jeans on over his hips. “Hang in there, okay? If Nick roughs you up too much tomorrow let me know. I’ll give him a stern talking-to.”

 

There was an audible smile on his lips, but John’s eyes had fallen shut again. After getting dressed, he leaned over and pressed another quick kiss to John’s forehead before taking his leave.


End file.
